


Temperance: Hide The Wine

by SmolBeanDrabbles



Category: Robin Hood (2018)
Genre: F/M, Sexual connotations, Very very soft smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:27:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25052383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolBeanDrabbles/pseuds/SmolBeanDrabbles
Summary: Upon receiving an invitation to a party in Nottingham you vow to yourself that this time, this time you won’t drink and you won’t end up in bed with the Sheriff…
Relationships: Sheriff of Nottingham/Reader, Sheriff of Nottingham/You
Kudos: 7





	Temperance: Hide The Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my 7 Deadly Sins / 7 Heavenly Virtues challenge on Tumble
> 
> Lyrics: Hide the Wine by Carly Pearce

_I heard you were back in town  
Well, it’s been a hot minute since me and you were hanging out  
Yeah, we had that crazy kind of chemistry  
Where you get burned, don’t learn, don’t care  
Just reach for another match and gasoline_

_Better hide the wine, and get it gone  
Oh I better hide every one of them records that turn me on   
Turn up the lights, and kill the mood  
‘Cause baby I just don’t trust myself with you  
I better hide the wine_

_Well I know me and I know you…  
Oh oh with one sip, one tip, we’ll be sitting on the couch  
You’ll be kicking off your shoes  
  
Oh knock-knock, here you come a-knockin’ on my door  
But you’re gonna have to wait another minute on the porch  
Oh no, no, it’s a dangerous thing  
Pouring alcohol on an old flame  
_  
—

_noun_

  1. Abstinence from alcoholic drink.
  2. Temperance is defined as moderation or voluntary self-restraint. It is typically described in terms of what an individual voluntarily refrains from doing.



You knew the game. How many times had you played it?  
 _Too many._  
But this time, _this time_ , you swore not to get dragged into it. You wouldn’t play. No matter how hard he tried to get you to. No matter how much you wanted to.  
And you always _wanted_ to.  
But it went around and around. Ever since you’d been much younger. Ever since he’d caught your eye, and you his, around Foundling House. Before he got a fancy title; and attire to go with it.  
When he was young and angry, and would sneak you to the roof with the best bottle of wine he could find, and he’d yell to let of steam. He’d yell for the sake of yelling… like he did now. Except back them he didn’t have the authority to make that yelling go anywhere.  
Now he did.  
When the yelling was over, and the bottle was finished, you’d both sneak elsewhere. And that’s what you always looked forward to.  
  
He grew up and moved on. _Sort of_. He was older than you and could do such things. Still surrounded by so much he hated, sometimes he would return to where you grew up. To where you knew him back when he had a name, not a title.  
And that was dangerous. Because he would always carry with him a good bottle of wine. One thing would always lead to another and the next thing you were aware of there were clothes all over the floor, and you were back to the familiarity of the warmth and scent of his body. The sounds he made. The sounds you made – but only for him.  
You longed for that as much as he did. But that was all it was. On and off, and on and off again.  
Never serious; you were sure neither of you wanted anything serious as it was. But that didn’t stop you thinking you could move on. And it didn’t stop him from coming after you.

On rare occasions, very rare occasions, you would be called to him. To Nottingham. And it just so happened that when a rider and invitation appeared at your door; you were called again.  
This was worse. At lavish parties that the Sheriff hosted you couldn’t escape alcohol and you couldn’t escape _him_. And it was alcohol, wasn’t it? That made you unable to resist each other. Because it never seemed to start with anything else. Sure, you didn’t have to attend. But that would be rude.  
You liked to remind him who he really was. Of the company he used to keep (that you bet he wished he still could keep). To alleviate the boredom. Especially on his side; what did he do all day anyway?  
This time though you had vowed, no drinking… You wouldn’t goad him, or tease him, or _hell,_ even want him.  
You would take it like two friends catching up. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold on. But holding on to him for your entire life? You were fairly certain that at some point you should realise that this was all it was going to be. He’d be married eventually - you were surprised the Church hadn’t coerced him into that yet - and you had met someone else. But, that also wasn’t serious. Trouble was, you had a feeling that this one could be something, could develop into something, that whatever you had with the Sheriff was not…  
  
So you accepted the invite. And when the time came you made your way to Nottingham.  
And this time you were nearly intent on avoiding him entirely. If not for any reason other than to torture him yourself.

  
***

Your dress flowed gently behind you, off-shoulder and low cut, pulling in at the waist you knew exactly what you were doing by wearing this. There wasn’t any point wearing anything inconspicuous anyway, he’d still find you. In which case you might as well flaunt it; show him what he couldn’t have. Or what you were intent on denying him.  
  
If you could.  
  
Avoiding him wasn’t as hard as you’d imagined. This dress and the way you’d dressed up tonight drew people to you. Those who didn’t know you wanted to find out exactly who you were. Those that did clearly wanted to talk to you for _other_ reasons…  
What was certainly unusual for you, was every drink you were offered you refused. There was nothing better than being offered or bought a drink. Especially from charming young men who _might_ _well_ make the Sheriff jealous.  
But then he’d cut in, obviously scare the other man off, you’d both be drinking and one thing would lead to another, meaning you’d wake up in his bed again. So there was absolutely **no** way a drop of alcohol was passing your lips.  
  
Having said that, you weren’t actively trying to avoid him; you actually wanted to make eye contact and tease him, but also make sure he got nowhere near you. Having said _that,_ it wasn’t hard; everyone always wanted to be all over the Sheriff – female or otherwise. And for a multitude of reasons. But the only one he wanted to be all over, or to be all over _him_ was you.  
And tonight you weren’t playing.

He’d seen you – oh, of course he had, how could he not? – wandering this party looking **_flawless…_** But he hadn’t been able to escape the usual crowd, or the Lords, yet. He wanted to escape this as quickly as possible and go over to you. But every conversation he dismissed had him falling right into another. And it was frustrating because he so desperately wanted _you._  
Of course he invited you as a friend, but, that wasn’t what you really were. And when he’d received your acceptance note back, the Sheriff knew exactly why you’d come. For exactly the same reason he wanted you here.  
Because he craved that intimacy. To talk to someone who would hold him close, and listen, and understand, and run their fingers through his hair. No judgement, no opinion (at least not one that would oppose his. Usually you saw his viewpoint completely… Or calmed him down.), no strings. He could love on you as much as he wanted, and it would never be anything more than that.  
  


**

Eventually of course he caught you, so you had no choice by to converse with him;  
“Would you like some wine?”  
“Uh, no. I don’t think so.”  
“That’s very unusual for you… Let me get you something…” He snapped his fingers to beckon a waiter over  
“ **NO**. No, trust me, I won’t be drinking a drop.”  
“Well, we can’t all be expected to follow suit, can we? Come on, I’ll have something, you should toast…”  
“Toast what?!” You looked around you, “A successful party? I can do that without alcohol.”  
You weren’t sure you liked the small smirk on his face; “Oh? Can you really? What are you worried about; I’ve seen you when you’re very, _very_ far gone before – what happened? When did you get boring on me?”  
“I’m well _aware_ of what you’ve seen when I’ve been drinking…”  
“ _OHHHH_ – Is that what you’re worried about?” He pulled himself in closer to you; “Like that isn’t the reason you came here.”  
“Its-”  
“In that dress…?” The Sheriff’s voice was dark and husky, and you thought you might need a real drink to still everything. “… _Huh, Y/N…”_ You couldn’t hold his eyes, no way, but that made your eyes focus on his chest; the toning you knew was underneath all that wool and leather. You swallowed hard, and he noticed “That’s it… Don’t deny it…”

You took a breath, and somehow with it came the courage to face those cold blue eyes. Not cold to you, but everyone else; and they were darker now. And you knew why when you could feel him this close to you. You loved watching them change like that; maybe this time around you’d missed your chance; “I’m not confirming or denying anything… But I’m certainly **not** drinking.”  
“Surely you won’t object to me drinking?”  
“No.” Although you did, if this was going to work you’d prefer not to have him basically hanging all over you due to the amount he’d drunk. Because you were still supposed to be making sure what you both wanted **didn’t** happen.  
  
But, _mmmmhn…_ The scent of him, the heat you could feel that you so desperately wanted to be wrapped up in now you were here. He wasn’t touching you, but God, you knew it would feel so good if he did. Instead his hands were behind him, keeping his back straight. You had to bite your lip to stop the small moan escaping your lips at the thought of leaving scratches there...  
He could see it on your face, and that made him bend towards you; “Come on, _Y/N,_ Tell me why you’re here.”  
It was weird, for him to be here, this close and talking like this and _no one_ seeming to pay any attention. Because they sure had been paying a **lot** of attention to the both of you separately. Had he told them to leave him alone, had he told them to leave you both alone?  
You shook your head, because if you opened your mouth he’d know you were an outright liar – or worse, the truth would spill.  
But that only made his smirk broaden and then he did pull you into him, and you gasped. “Tell me.”  
“ _You know_ …”  
“Of course I know,” he kept that voice at a steady almost-growl “I want to hear you say it.”  
“NO.”  
“Why not?”  
“Never!” Suddenly pulling you to him wasn’t enough, he had to touch your skin, taste your lips. Have you in any way that you would have him. So you found his lips on yours. And your hands on his coat didn’t push him away; but pulled him in.  
But this was wrong; so **wrong**. It was exactly what you couldn’t allow yourself to have. What you didn’t want -but _damn_ you wanted it so bad.  
You could taste the wine on his lips, and realised that your promise of no alcohol was quickly being thrown out of the window.

Eventually you came to your senses enough to push him back; this was wildly inappropriate in the public eye. What the HELL was he doing?!  
 _“Control yourself!”_ Now your voice was at a growl and your eyes were fierce “We’re not sneaking around at Foundling House anymore…!!”  
“No we aren’t, my darling. But we could still do a lot of sneaking.” He raised his eyebrows as if to make a point, just in case you weren’t getting it.  
You let him go and took a few steps backwards; “Sneaking…?” and you finally smiled “I’d like to see you do any _sneaking_ any more, **Sheriff.** ”

Still, now you’d had your first taste, your first sip and you craved more. If he got to kissing you here, you’d be at the bar, you’d drink… it’d get messy…  
If you got to kissing elsewhere…  
 _Hold on, Y/N, **kissing** shouldn’t even come into this, the whole point was not to be caught up in him tonight.  
_But then the Sheriff had a point; _why did you come?_ if not to get tangled up with him, literally. Nottingham wasn’t your style, so it made very little sense for you to want to come here for any other reason. Parties were alright but also not your scene, so, he was your only reason.  
And you could tease him all you liked, but what you should have expected was retaliation; The Sheriff to tease you back or him to really go for it.  
And he did, no mercy…

You kept your eyes trained on him and his on you as you hurried to the hall doors. You turned, one last glance. The choice was his. He followed you and you both got what you wanted, or he didn’t and you left knowing you’d done what you’d prescribed to yourself as _the right thing_. Did you even know what the right thing was?  
One last look to determine if he was brave enough and you slipped through the door.  
  
  
Of course he was. It would be stupid to think otherwise. And you weren’t far down the corridor you'd decided was your exit, before you heard footsteps. But that just made you walk faster…  
Suddenly the second echo stopped and you paused, when it didn’t pick up again you turned. The corridor was empty. You took one step forward, puzzled. Was it even him you had heard? Who else would it be? But if so, where did they go?! They weren’t walking up the other hallway, you could see this corridor stretch ahead of you. And you hadn’t heard a door open, although there was one almost adjacent to the one you had walked through.

You became unnerved to realise that the sound you could hear was your own breathing, and your heart beating in your ears. You almost sounded _scared_ ; unless it was exhilaration? You continued watching the corridor, intrigued and listened out for anything that could possibly signal that anyone else was around. Sheriff of Nottingham or otherwise.  
In one swift movement from your left, your question was answered; although in the dim lighting you couldn’t see exactly who had grabbed you. it caught you off guard, but your attempt to shriek was stifled by a hand clamped firmly over your mouth as you were dragged across the corridor. Your back came into contact with a stone colonnade and you protested again at the way it pressed up against your back.

You came face to face with those blue eyes - now shining silver in the light that made its way in.  
“If you wanted me alone why didn’t you just say so-!?” He hissed, removing his hand from your mouth, you didn’t have time to retaliate before he replaced it with his lips. And once again you were met with the sweet intoxication of alcohol.  
 _Ugh, give me my Sin again!  
_ He tangled his fingers in your hair and didn’t show any signs of stopping the kiss. Well, now you knew exactly where _you_ were, you didn’t feel like stopping it either. And your hands ran fervently from his chest to his neck; pulling him ever closer so that his body pressed up against yours again. He broke the kiss for respite, but not from you, and you could have killed him. “To be honest this has not gone according to plan!”  
“Oh?” Instead he kissed your cheek and down to your jaw line “And why is that? Don’t tell me you _don’t want me_!?”  
“N-no,” Although your protest sounded more like a whine of delight “just like I don’t want any alcohol…”  
“Ah, I see.” His lips found your neck and his head pushed yours to gain exposure. As now your fingers ran into his hair and you tipped your head back for him. _Ugh! I hate you! **I hate you!  
**_ You’d been doing this so long he knew your body like his. And what you really liked never changed much in all those years.  
“You’re attempt to abstain was a valiant effort,” The Sheriff whispered against your skin “But sometimes we just have to give in to what we want most…”  
You didn’t have enough fight left in you to retort with _Oh? And that’s **you** is it?!  
_“Well, if it has to be one or the other-” ****

You gasped as he lifted you from the ground; back still up against the colonnade, his hands slipped under your dress to grip your thighs as his lips found yours again.  
 _Some resistance Y/N…_ well, if you weren’t going to resist you might as well join in and not miss out. Your hands found the clasps on his jacket, and afterwards the fastenings on his shirt with ease. This was almost second nature. You wrapped your legs around him to another growl that reverberated delightfully through your body. You almost smirked into the kiss as his hands travelled further across your skin; pulling you further into him - but this time accompanied by the slightly harsh grind of his hips into yours.  
You had to break the kiss, you had no choice but to moan his name at that. _Damn!  
_ He chuckled “Always the same…”  
“You best not be complaining!” your voice was pitchy and breathless, you didn’t just want him now, you needed him.  
“On the contrary...” His fingers slipped into your underwear and your moan was louder now. “Mmm,” the hum was satisfied; “I thought so.”  
This time you almost glared at him, but it didn’t last long. _I **HATE** you!! _Why did he make you feel this good? Why did he **always** make you feel this good?!?

He continued to touch you exactly where you needed him to, and pleasure became elation. You were conscious of the party still; so even though it was loud in there, you continued to stifle your moans. He wasn’t exactly happy about that, but you knew how to keep your mouth shut - you’d had to do it enough in similar situations - meaning no amount of grinding or growling from him was going to make you any louder.  
And that was a good thing; because the next thing you knew the doors swung open and light flooded your private little corridor. He dropped you instantly and pulled you around the colonnade. But the absence of his fingers made you whine louder than you’d been doing under his touch.  
You noticed how he still pressed his body into yours as you inched around the stone structure. A bunch of giggling, likely drunk, partygoers hanging off each other seemed to bicker other just outside the doors. You shared the same raised eyebrows look, as if that hadn’t ever been you once - and as the same thought crossed your mind you tried not to giggle like children yourselves, to no avail.  
You peered around the corner again, “Guess you still _do_ need to sneak around, Sheriff.”  
“Hush…” He nudged you gently, and pulled you back just a touch to make sure you weren’t spotted.  
“ _Leave_ …” He murmured it to himself, but his hot breath caressed your skin and nearly made you shiver as you watched them slowly make their way across the hall; nearly screaming with laughter as they stumbled over one another. “ **Leave!** ” His voice was a little more impatient as they once again stopped and began searching around for something. He sighed, and the pull of his body from yours made you turn to him;  
“Hmm?”  
His eyes traced your lips momentarily and the Sheriff smiled before he kissed them “I have a feeling if we continue here, we won’t remain uninterrupted for long…”  
You knew what that kiss meant; “Tell me what you had in mind?”  
He took your hand in his; “Come with me - I know just the room…”

  
**  
  
You thought he might mean just a quiet room somewhere, as everyone was preoccupied, so many rooms would be empty for the entire night and possibly the majority of the morning too.  
But no. **_His room._** That’s what he meant. And suddenly this was too personal and too intimate, and you should have been walking out of there, no alcohol in your system and no love from him. But you didn’t care.  
You weren’t drunk, but you were drunk on the way he made you feel.  
  
The door was barely closed, let alone locked and he was on you. Hands tangled back in your hair; the Sheriff wasted no time in pushing you back towards his bed. Pulling you head back to once again expose your neck to him, his other hand left your hair to pull your dress down your arms and body.  
No, he really _wasn’t_ attempting to waste time. Maybe he thought you’d change your mind.  
You couldn’t trust yourself, and you should have known that the second the invite came through. You should have torn it up and forgot about him, but you didn’t. You never had, you never did, you never _could_.  
So your hands found your dress too and helped him, almost impatiently, undress you. He released you for a minute, eyebrow raised; “I thought you weren’t doing this?”  
“OH **_SHUT UP_** ** _!_** ”  
His smirk accompanied his laugh, and he shrugged himself out of grey leather and wool – helping you with the fastenings of his black undershirt; “Why did I bother with the damn party?”  
“I think you were certainly thinking alcohol-” You let him throw his shirt to the floor and attempt to pull his feet from his boots as you undid his pants; “No, no, wait – that’s not going to-”  
 _“Hush!”_ He nudged you back and kicked both off – but there wasn’t even enough time to stare at each other for a moment and get lot in it. _No romance lost here…  
_ The Sheriff grabbed you back into his arms and you both hit the bed; a passionate tangle of limbs and hot, breathless kisses.

He was **perfect** … Every inch of him perfect. Although you couldn’t be sure at this point you were really registering him – given that you were absorbed in kisses – rather than anything else; that all seemed to be entirely subconscious…  
The Sheriff was flawless… _the sex was flawless…_ His vibrant blue eyes both glittering and sinfully dark… A mixture leaving you lost for words before you’d even started…

You couldn’t even describe how and what you felt. There was so much ‘pleasure’ that it was almost an out of body experience; you’d done this so many times and yet… _this time_ left you wondering if this was actually happening…  
It was both too hot and yet cool; and completely sober you realised that you both seemed to fit together perfectly – his pale skin gliding smoothly over yours, creating fire at every point of contact. His kisses were deliciously hot, hungrier and yet still holding the gentle temperament that he always tried to keep with you…   
_How did he manage to keep control?_ You’d lose it if it wasn’t for him; but then again, you **_had_** lost it because of him.

That lustful tangle of limbs, an embrace; just a series of short kisses and even shorter breaths. His eyes were perfectly dark, passionate and they slowly became your point of focus… You tangled your hands through his neat grey hair as he ran his lips over yours again…  
It was more than perfection… More than any excitement you’d ever experienced… More than bliss… There were no words anymore to describe the way this made you feel… **HE** made you feel…

His hand crept slowly down you left arm – although now calm… it still made your skin tingle as he whispered incoherent sentences in your ear. When his hand found yours you instinctively laced your fingers with his and kissed him again…You weren’t sure, and couldn’t be certain. Far too tired, and half way to sleep before the words passed your lips, but if you were to whisper anything to him then…  
Whatever you said… _Not incoherently_ … Just purely honest… Too tired to remember and probably to care what kind of feelings were thus spilled from your lips, you just hoped that you had let him know how much he meant to you…

  
  
***

When you awoke to sunlight and his steady breathing you knew you’d made a mistake. You covered your face with your hands and let out a gentle groan.  
 _“Damn…”_ Staying wasn’t the problem, sleeping with him wasn’t the problem. Breaking a promise to yourself? You were just a little disappointed.  
You shifted your gaze to him, still sleeping but holding you strong in his arms and sighed in content; only _a little…_ You gently brushed strands of his hair from his face and wriggled your body to nuzzle into his chest.  
As you might expect, the next thing you heard was the rumble of his laugh building there, and then running across your skin. The Sheriff's fingers danced across your shoulders as he caressed you, and you felt his lips against your forehead.  
“You stayed…”  
“You think I had a choice?”  
“I would expect as such that you would leave.”  
“Are you kicking me out of your bed, Sheriff…?” Your enquiry was met with a huff;  
“No. I’m just used to your long string of babbled regret.”  
“Ah, well, usually I’ve been drinking and basically regret everything...” You sighed “ _Oh_ , I really did it this time.”  
“How so?” He pulled slightly away from you so that he could gaze at you properly; tilting your chin so that your eyes met his,  
“I promised myself I wouldn’t do this.”  
“Oh, am I that unsatisfactory?”  
 _“NO!”_ You protested, disliking his slightly hurt pout, “No,” you took his hand in yours “in myself. Every time this happens we’re drinking and I-” you paused for a minute, and your face lit up in realisation; “But I DIDN’T DRINK!”  
“No, and _how_ with all those people, I have no idea. I need your tolerance!”  
You tilted your head with a smile; “Well, now I’m proud of myself. I did one thing right.”  
“Just the one?” You pushed the Sheriff’s arm at his cheeky smile,  
“If I can keep _half_ a promise, then that’s half a promise more than I expected.” But you’d realised something else; “But, I always thought this happened because of the wine… Maybe that’s not…” you hesitated, biting your lip “the issue.”  
“I fail to see any issue with this.” He kissed your face again, and continued to afford you butterfly kisses as you attempted to get an explanation out;  
“It’s unsustainable!!”  
“Then stay…” His voice was soft, but that wasn’t what shocked you. “Stay here, to be with me.” On receiving no response his eyes met yours again; “Was that not a good suggestion?”  
Your eyes were wide; and for once there was something in them he didn’t recognise. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you _scared_ before. You swallowed, blinking your fear away; “I- I can’t.”  
“Why?” He pulled you closer, as if you were about to scurry out of bed and leave him here alone.  
“Well I- I don’t even really like Nottingham.” You took a deep breath and bit your lip again, this time leading into a smirk; “But—! I do think you could persuade me…”  
As expected, the Sheriff caught your wave length immediately, and caught your smirk with a teasing one of his own – leaving a chaste kiss on your lips before rolling you over;  
“… ** _Oh_** , I think I know how…”  
  



End file.
